Night at the Museum: A Game of Might
by penelope lemon
Summary: Buried in the tomb of Merenkahre and his sons were three items: a staff, an hourglass and a tablet that were said to grant immortality to whoever possessed all three. When an archaeologist and a rag tag team of excavationists uncover these items, evil forces threaten to destroy Ahkmenrah. Now the team finds themselves in a race against time to recover the items and save humanity.
1. Chapter One

**University of Cambridge**

**January 18th, 1936**

The department of archaeology and anthropology at Cambridge University was always busy with students shuffling from one class to another but on this particular day, it was especially chaotic as the archaeologists Therkel Mathiassen was giving a lecture in the main hall about his discoveries in northern Canada. Excited chatter filled Cambridge's halls as students pushed and shoved their way towards the lecture room. Professors tried to maintain some order but the eager students were too busy hauling books and checking pens for ink to pay any attention to their superiors.

Elizabeth Fredericks was not one of those students.

She made her way towards the other end of the hall, the heels of her oxfords clicking against the tile floor determinedly. The velvet cap she wore was cocked over one eye coyly and her dress and jacket were smartly matched. Her red lips were pursed and her eyes held a fierce gaze as they flickered over the faces of the students. She walked with purposeful strides, with her shoulders back and her spine straight.

She carried herself in such a way that demanded attention and respect. Even though the halls were packed, the young scholars moved out of her way, pressing themselves into the wall to create a small path for her. Their loud chatter died to a hum as she passed and whispers of the compelling young woman were passed behind gloved hands. She ignored them as she maneuvered through the crowd towards one of the classrooms.

She paused before entering the room, glancing up at the sign on the door that she a read a hundred times before and a hundred times over.

_Dr. Stephen Fredericks, Anthropologist. A Comparative Study of Ancient Civilizations. Room 103._

Twisting the handle, Eliza entered to a find a man sitting at his desk. His brow was furrowed in concentration and beneath his salt a pepper mustache he worked a cigarette between his teeth. He stared down at the chess board on his desk, his fingers hovering over the pieces before he moved one. He looked up.

"Eliza, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you here? Shouldn't you be at the lecture with the other students?" he asked.

"Stop with the formalities. You know why I am here," Eliza said. She descended the stairs that held the rows of desks until she stood in front of the professor's workspace. The anthropologists didn't look up from his game. "Why did you convince the Archaeological Society to pull my funding for the Merenkahre burial site?"

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that question," the man said lightly, "But if you honestly need an explanation, I'll tell you. But first, your move."

He indicated to the chess game.

Eliza let an irritated sigh escape her lips before pulling a chair up to the desk. She knew better than to try and argue with her uncle when chess was involved and she knew that she wouldn't get her answers unless she played along.

She removed her white wrist gloves and set them aside, moving a pawn.

Her uncle grinned under his moustache. "You always do favor the least valuable pieces, don't you?" he asked as he contemplated his next move.

"Because no one expects them to be able to control the game. Most move the pawns around the board as a distraction but if played right, they become an asset." Eliza replied, looking up at the anthropologist. "Now, how come I don't have money for my excavation Uncle Stephen?"

Dr. Stephen Fredericks looked up at his niece and leaned back in his leather chair, the game momentarily forgotten. She looked at him with a hard gaze that would make anyone cringe but Stephen had been around Eliza since she was a toddler so to him the look only made her seem like a foolish child.

"Stop sulking," he said firmly but Eliza didn't relent. She narrowed her eyes.

"You know I can do this."

"Ha!" Stephen scoffed. "Eliza you are barley twenty four, you've only just finished your studies, you're a _woman_ and you don't have a team together. What makes you think you can lead a dig in Egypt?"

"You know I graduated top of my class," Eliza replied as she watched her uncle make his move across the board. "I'm smarter than half the men you took to Nepal on your last excavation. I've been with you on half your travels! South America, Madagascar, Greenland and Jerusalem."

"Yes, but only as an intern. You've never lead a team."

"Because you haven't given me a bloody chance!"

Stephen raised an eyebrow at his niece's language.

Eliza sighed. "It wasn't right of you to pull my funding. I presented my case to the Archaeological Society, they agreed to back me financially but you swept that out from underneath my feet. How am I supposed to prove myself if you won't let me try?"

Eliza moved another pawn then watched as Stephen moved his bishop.

"You're right," Stephen said, "You're an excellent archaeologist and an incredibly intelligent student, but leading a team is a hard enough challenge as it is and yet you've decided to take on one of the most difficult excavation ever attempted. Where do you get that radical determination?"

"I learned from the best," Eliza replied, "Big risks come with big rewards."

Stephen played his turn and then Eliza took hers. She waited for him to make his next move, watching her uncle tap his cigarette over the ash tray before returning it to his mouth. She traced the lines of his face with her gaze, remembering a younger man who would laugh and tell the most outrageous stories to her. Stephen had been Eliza's best friend growing up and she held him in such high esteem that she ended up following in his footsteps, much to her parents dismay. As a child, the man had been her idol, as a young woman, he was now her tutor.

The years had been kind to Stephen, his handsome face still visible under the winkles and freckles, but as nice as the years were to his face, they were not kind to his demeanor. When he was younger, Stephen could tell a joke with a sharp tongue and quick wink but as he aged, he had become much more serious. Not that Eliza minded. Stephen's firm hand had caused her to grow up quickly and without him she would not have been where she was today.

Still, there were times when she missed her sweet uncle who could cure cries with good belly laugh.

"This is about Robert, isn't it?" Eliza asked after a long, drawn out silence.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't want me to go to Egypt because of what happened to Robert," Eliza said matter of factly. When she looked at her uncle again, she knew that she had hit the mark. Stephen looked at his niece with hurt in his eyes that she had touched on such a sensitive subject.

"This has nothing to do with your brother," Stephen replied firmly.

"It has _everything_ to do with him," Eliza said sharply, "You encouraged Robert to try and find the Merenkahre burial site but his team was lost in a sand storm. The only ones that survived were his son and some of the local diggers. You're scared that I'll make the same mistakes that Robert made."

Robert Fredericks was a skilled archaeologists and had attempted the excavation many years prior. After months of laborious work and nothing to show for it, Robert had expanded the site to cover more ground. His greed and frustration eventually lead to his death when a massive sand storm hit their camp site and Robert had refused to stop digging to take shelter. There were only eight survivors, one of them being Robert's ten year old son, Cecil James Fredericks.

Eliza had only been twenty at the time and had just started at Cambridge. Now an orphan, Cecil had gone to live with his grandparents, Eliza's parents. Eliza didn't see much of her parents or her brother's son, after they moved from Ipswich to New York four years ago; an occasional letter was the only harbinger of her family's activity.

Though he never would admit it, Eliza was sure that her uncle blamed himself for her brother's death. She never harbored hard feeling towards her uncle for suggesting the dig that eventually took Robert's life, but she believed that he was right in assuming that he was responsible for Robert's early passing. If he hadn't gone to Egypt, her brother would be sitting next to them now, trying to convince Stephen that it was high time his little sister lead her own team.

"Admit it Uncle Stephen. Those men died at your hand and now you're frightened that I'll have the same fate," Eliza said when her uncle didn't reply.

Stephen pounded his fist on his desk, rattling the chess pieces on the board. "That's quite enough Elizabeth!" he said sharply.

Eliza knew that she had gone too far. Stephen only ever used her full name when she had crossed the line. Stephen sat back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing his face tiredly. It was a long time before either of them said anything.

"Eliza you have all the odds against you," Stephen said, his voice much softer now. "Many men more experienced than you have tried to find the burial site of the king and his sons but you know just as I do that it's nothing but myths that surround the tombs. You know of the legend of the Gifts of Might? It's nothing but rubbish. No one had been able to find them for centuries and there is no concrete proof that they even exist just like there is no concrete proof of the Merenkahre burial site."

Stephen reached over and moved his queen. Eliza moved her knight.

"Please Uncle Stephen, give me a chance. I know that you're worried that I won't be able to do this but I am telling you that I will not disappoint you. I know that everyone thinks I'm just an eager, young student who's just chasing stories and I know that the odds are against me but if I am anything like the woman you taught me to be, you and I both know that this dig will be victorious."

Another sigh escaped Stephen. He laced his fingers together and leaned over his desk, scrutinizing Eliza over his hands. Eliza held his gaze as she reached over the board and moved her last pawn.

"Check mate," she said.

Stephen gave a breathy chuckle, exhausted from bantering with his stubborn niece. He should have known better than to try and pull the rug out from under her once she had made up her mind. There was no deterring Eliza from her goal now, no matter how Stephen tried. It was just easier to go along with it.

"I'll call the Archaeological Society in the morning and ask them to sponsor you. But in the meantime Eliza, get a team together. You've got a lot of work to do before you leave for Egypt."

Eliza flashed her uncle a triumphant smile. She rose from her chair and slipped her gloves back on her hands before taking the stairs to the doorway of the classroom. Back out in the hall, which was now eerily quiet, Eliza resisted the urge to pump a victorious fist through the air. Now that she had her funding back, it was time to track down the elusive Charles Barsad. If anyone was going to help her find the tombs, it was him.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note<strong>: Well there you have it darlings, the first of many exciting chapters. I hope you enjoyed it.

This idea came to me after watching the last Night at the Museum and this story formed, literally, overnight. I believe it's one of my best story ideas to date and I am so excited to share it with you. That being said, I am nervous for this story. The Night at the Museum does not have a very big fan base and a lot of new stories are popping up so if you enjoyed reading this, please leave a review and let me know.

How do you guys feel about Elizabeth? I'm trying out a new character that I've never used before so we'll see how it goes. There will hopefully be a lot of character development in this story. I also can't wait for you guys to meet Charlie in the next chapter, he's going to be a hoot to write.

Thank you so much you guys. This NatM fanbase is so wonderful, you all rock.


	2. Chapter Two

**Gildrey Bar in Peterborough**

**January 29th, 1936**

Eliza walked down Westgate Street in Peterborough almost two weeks later. She made her way towards a popular pub at the end of the road, a stack of folders and papers tucked up underneath her arm protectively. She entered Gildrey Bar and as she did a wave of cigarette smoke and the smell of stale beer hit her with such force it made her nose tingle and eyes water. She waved the foul scent away from her face and approached the bartender.

At the sound of the door opening, for there was a small bell attached to the knob, a few men looked up curiously. The rest were too interested in their drinks or the cabaret singer to take notice of another patron, but the few that had looked had their eyes trained on the young woman. With her blonde hair and fair skin, she was a breath of fresh air in the dingy, muddled bar and suddenly some of the men were wondering if they had drunk themselves to a stupor, speculating what sort of little lamb willing wondered into a cavern full of lions.

Feeling eyes on her, Eliza glanced around the bar, her eyes narrowing viciously at the men who were staring. The few pairs of eyes were averted and the woman forgotten as the men continued to drown themselves in whiskey and bourbon. No man wanted a deceitful wolf dressed in an innocent sheep's clothing.

Satisfied, Eliza turned to the bartender.

"Charles Barsad?" she asked.

The bartender, who was wiping down pint glasses, grunted and indicated to the other end of the bar.

Eliza made her way down the line of men at the bar stools. At the end of the pub sat a man slumped over the counter with a glass half full of bourbon. His dark hair stuck out in a wild, tangled mess and a sheen of sweat lined his brow. His clothes were in disarray; his vest unbuttoned, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his trousers were wrinkled and dirty. His eyes were closed, but Eliza had seen them enough times to know that they were blue as forget-me-not. A shadow of a beard lined the man's jaw, a tall tale sign that he hadn't bothered with personal hygiene the past few days.

Eliza took a seat on the other side of Charles Barsad. She took the files and papers from underneath her arm and dropped them onto the bar, startling him awake.

The man jumped and rubbed the bourbon induced sleep from his eyes. Eliza watch as he took a moment to regain his surroundings, obviously befuddled from the alcohol. He looked at Eliza, slowly rubbed his eyes again, and looked back at her.

"Tell me this is a bloody dream," he mumbled into his hands when he realized that Eliza was indeed sitting next to him and was not just a projection of his muddled subconscious.

Eliza smirked. "I knew you'd be happy to see me Charlie," she said airily as she crossed her legs and situated herself into the bar stool. "You are a difficult person to track down. You know I went almost a whole week before I caught wind of your whereabouts? Even then I had to spend three days in Peterborough before I could finally pin point your location. Seems you have a knack for disappearing."

"One of my many talents," Charlie slurred.

"You obviously don't want to be found – "

"Obviously."

"– so who are you running from?"

"Everyone."

Eliza rolled her eyes as Charlie took another sip of his drink. She rarely let anyone get away with sass at her expense but Charlie was the exception. She usually let his wisecracks slide.

Usually.

"When you have a reputation like mine Eliza you become a commodity. You can only turn down so many people for so many jobs before they get angry."

"But of all the places to go, why Peterborough? It's only an hour's train ride from Cambridge. If you really wanted to stay hidden I would have guessed you'd go to Aberdeen or Belfast, instead of staying right under the noses of those looking for you?" Eliza said.

"It's so overt, it's covert," was Charlie's simple reply.

Charlie looked at Eliza, his eyes suddenly narrowing suspiciously.

"Which brings me to my next question…what are you doing here?"

Eliza reached over and opened one of the manila envelopes. She shuffled through the stacks of papers until she pulled out multiple boat and train tickets to Egypt and slid them towards Charlie. He took one look at them before giving Eliza a firm, "Hell no," and sliding the tickets back towards her.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask," Eliza said.

"I know exactly what you're going to ask and the answer is no."

"Hear me out Charlie," Eliza said, her voice uncharacteristically desperate.

Charlie ignored her, turning his back to her and drinking down his bourbon. When he finished his glass, he waved the bartender over and asked for another pint. The bartender retreated behind the bar and appeared with another drink, sliding it to Charlie.

"Seven cents," the bartender grumbled.

Charlie frowned. "You're killing me Gildrey," he said, fishing in one pocket, then the other. He checked his vest pocket and when all three came up empty he murmured, "Damn."

Eliza reached into her own pockets and drew out a few cents, dropping them on the counter for the bartender, who took the money and left the two alone.

With a lazy smile, Charlie reached for his drink but before he could grab it, Eliza snatched it away from him. With his reflexes inhibited because of the intoxication he didn't bother to try and battle her for the drink. He just scowled at her.

Eliza took a sip of the sweet bourbon and looked at Charlie.

"I don't believe I saw you paying for the drink," she said smartly.

Charlie's frown deepened. "That angelic face of yours is deviously deceptive."

"Hear me out and I'll buy you enough to drinks to satisfy your ungodly thirst," Eliza said and handed the pint back to him.

Charlie snorted into his drink. "There's no satisfying it," he said morbidly. He drained the glass and turned to Eliza. "Let's hear it."

"I'm leading a team to Egypt to uncover the tomb of Merenkahre – "

"I've heard enough," Charlie interrupted.

"Charlie," Eliza chastised, frowning at her friend. He waved his hand for her to continue and so she did. "We're leaving in less than a month and I need you on my team." She paused and opened up more files, spreading the paperwork out over the bar.

Charlie looked down at what she had gathered. There were pictures and profiles of archaeologists, translators and diggers, multiple maps of Egypt and the Nile with grids sketched over them, notes about previous excavations and findings in the area, pictures of the nearby pyramids, drawings and annotations of certain hieroglyphics and many piles of Eliza's own reports.

"Do you think you gathered enough information?" Charlie asked.

Eliza ignored his gibe. "I already have most of the team together," she said, pulling out the profile of an older gentlemen, "Dr. John Chaplin is an American archaeologist and has experience with ancient Egyptian civilization digs. I sent him a letter about this excavation and he replied to me that he was interested. He's boarding a ship for Cherbourg as we speak. I've talked with some scholars at Cambridge who know some people already stationed in Egypt that would be willing to work with me. I have most everyone I need for a solid team, except you."

"Why me? There are plenty of other archaeologists that I'm sure are willing to risk their lives for an excavation that is doomed to fail before it even begins," Charlie slurred.

Eliza bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep Charlie's malicious jabs from getting to her. She needed him on her team and if this conversation ended in a fight then she would be without the final member necessary to complete the excavation company.

"I wasn't joking with you when I said that disappearing was one of your many talents. You're the only man I know that can take apart an Enfield number two revolver and put it back together in less than a minute. You can make an explosive from copper wire, a lemon, gunpowder and a piece of paper. You have the uncanny ability to sniff out rare artifacts like a bloodhound on the trail of a rabbit and you can hold the liquor equivalent of four men."

"So you want to blast your way to Merenkahre's tomb? Or you want to drink yourself to death when you realize that the bloody tomb doesn't exists? Both of which I can help you with but it's not very sportsman like."

Eliza sighed, pulling out a sketched diorama of one of the pyramids of Giza and handed it to Charlie.

"Not exactly. When the pyramid of Khafre was finished, the high priests dropped large slabs of granite to seal off the entrances to the tomb. Later when grave robbers came through to plunder the tombs they had to either carve their way through the granite or dig through the limestone. The burial site of Merenkahre and his sons is most likely buried under miles of sand and hasn't been robbed yet and I don't plan to chisel my way through the rock."

Charlie smirked, looking over the drawing of the pyramid. "I like the way you think Eliza," he said, "but I'm still not going. I'm retired and trying to keep a low profile if you didn't notice."

Eliza ignored his statement and pulled out more drawings and a few pages of notes, giving them to Charlie to look over.

"That's not all I need you for. You've heard of the Gifts of Might?" Eliza asked, "Legend has it that after the birth of Merenkahre's youngest son, Ahkmenrah, the pharaoh fashioned three items that would ensure his bloodline to rule for all eternity. The Staff of Omnipotence was crated with the idea that its holder would be an untouchable, unstoppable ruler. It would bring, power, prosperity and protection to whoever harnessed its abilities. An hourglass was crafted next for Merenkahre's oldest son, Kahmunrah, to hold the Sands of Time. Twisting the hourglass allowed the keeper to become a master of time and space. The last item was a tablet. The Egyptians referred to it as the Tablet of Mortality because of its ability to resurrect the dead. It was given to Ahkmenrah. All the items are rumored to be buried with the pharaohs."

Eliza glanced at Charlie, who was now listening to her intently.

"Each of these items were made to represent a certain attitude a man needed to be a great king but together they become an unstoppable force of nature and turn the holder from mortal to a god. Whoever has control over the Gifts of Might has control over humanity. The staff, the tablet and the hourglass are all made from 24 carat gold and worth a lot of money…"

"Now you're speaking my language," Charlie said.

"I'm offering you twenty percent of my share if we find these artifacts and the tombs," Eliza said.

"Fifty," Charlie bargained.

"No, twenty."

"Forty five."

"Twenty."

"That's not fair. I'm changing my price. You are no respecter of the delicate art of bargaining," Charlie said and sighed, "Thirty. Final offer or I'm out."

"Deal," Eliza said and offered her hand to Charlie who took it begrudgingly. She reached over and began gathering her papers and putting them away in the folders. She order Charlie another bourbon, and stood up from the bar stool. She dropped the tickets into Charlie's lap.

"We are leaving in a few weeks. I expect you to be at the Cambridge train station packed, clean shaven and _sober_ – "

Charlie hissed. Heaven forbid he took a shower.

"We are taking a train from there to Margate then a ferry to Calais. We are meeting with Dr. Chaplin in Paris and taking a train to Turin and Naples. From there it's a ship ride to Benghazi then onto Cairo. The first dig site is just southwest of the Giza pyramids."

Eliza turned to leave, then paused. She glanced over her shoulder at Charlie and said, "It's been too long since we worked together. I am glad you decided to join the team."

"Yes, well, we will see how you feel after I accidentally blow the excavation site to bloody pieces," Charlie murmured into his drink and before draining another pint. It was enough to put him over the edge and he swayed slightly in his chair before dropping onto the counter again in unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> Thank you everyone for your reviews. They made my week. I hope everyone is having a wonderful New Year.

So, here you are introduced to Charlie. How do you like him? More of a background story and an insight into his and Eliza's relationship will most likely be in the next chapter. Unfortunately my computer crashed and I lost those chapters so it will be a while before my next update. I know that these first chapters are kind of an information dump before the action but I'm trying to make them as interesting as possible.

Thank you again!


	3. Chapter Three

**Paris, France**

**February 9th 1936**

The streamliner chugged along the track towards Paris, gently rocking its occupants from side to side as they rode. Eliza sat across from Charlie, who was looking out the window moodily. He had tried to sneak a flask of whiskey past Eliza at the train station back at Cambridge but she had found it and made him dump the drink. He had given up arguing with her and resorted to sulking as a sign of protest of Eliza's prohibition on the trip. It had been exactly two hours and eighteen minutes since his last word.

Eliza had been counting. She was savoring the silence.

Little did he know, Eliza had a small bottle of spirits in her bag. Eliza knew what a bad mood Charlie could get into, and while she could handle him, it wasn't fair to make everyone else suffer because of his foul temperament. She figured that having a drink handy would keep his attitude at bay.

They had been traveling for two days now. The previous one was spent on the train from Cambridge to Margate, then on a boat across the English Channel. They spent the night in Calais and were up early that morning to catch the train to Paris.

Stephen had stopped by before Eliza left Cambridge to see her off. They talked and said their goodbyes outside the dorms while the driver loaded her suitcases into the car.

_"You're sure you've got everything?" her uncle had asked._

_Eliza nodded. "Everything."_

_Stephen reached out and took hold of Eliza's arms, giving them a comforting squeeze. "I don't know why I ever doubted you. You've grow into such a clever young archaeologist these past few years. Your brother would be proud and I'm sure your parent's are too, even if they don't approve."_

_As he spoke, Eliza felt an unfamiliar tightening in her chest. Her uncle was more than just another blood relative. He acted more fatherly to her than her own father did. He was her rock, her teacher and her closest friend and she was going to miss him more than she ever thought she would. She dropped the calm and collected façade she had a habit of wearing and wrapped her arms around Stephen, burying her face in his chest like a child._

_"I'm going to miss you these next few months," she murmured into his shirt._

_He ran a gentle hand over her short hair. "And I'll miss you. Be sure to write plenty of letters, understand?"_

_Eliza pulled away and nodded._

_Stephen grinned down at her. "Now off you go. It's time to show those stuck up prudes at the Archaeological Society just what my young protégé can uncover. I want you to go to Egypt and I want you to prove the unbelievers wrong."_

_Eliza grinned at her uncle's uncharacteristically improper behavior. She was glad that he had finally come around to support her excavation. It made leaving easier knowing that she wasn't disappointing the one person in her life whose judgment she actually cared about. She climbed into the car and the driver shut the door behind her. She watched from the back window as the car pulled away from Cambridge University. Her uncle stood on the gravel drive, holding up his hand in goodbye. Eliza waved back to him then turned around and sunk into the cushioned seat with a sigh._

The train gave a sharp jolt, pulling Eliza from her thoughts. She glanced out the window and watched the French country side roll by.

Another two hours later and the train pulled into the Paris station.

Charlie and Eliza climbed off the streamliner and wandered through the station until they found the train that Dr. Chaplin had informed Eliza he would be arriving on. Passengers were pouring out of the streamliner and a large crowd was forming on the platform. Charlie was tall enough to see over the heads of most of the passengers but Eliza subtly raised herself on her toes to try and catch a glimpse of the archaeologist.

"I don't see him anywhere," Charlie said, who was once again speaking, then looked down at Eliza, "Are you sure this is the right train?"

Eliza pulled out Dr. Chaplin's letter from her pocket and read it aloud to her friend.

_'Miss Fredericks,_

_I will be eagerly awaiting for your arrival at the Paris station. I will be on the two o' clock train from Cherbourg. I believe it's scheduled to stop at platform two. _

_I have brought along my companion to accompany me on my journey. Fear not, she's rather small and well behaved; you won't have to worry about her being in the way on our excavation. _

_I do look forward to meeting you._

_Cordially yours,_

_Dr. John Chaplin'_

Charlie checked the platform number they were standing on. They were exactly where they needed to be but their excavation director was not.

"His companion?" Charlie asked, "Like an intern?"

"I'm not sure," Eliza said distractedly as she searched faces in the crowd. "Perhaps his wife?"

An older gentlemen descended the train steps onto the platform. He placed his hands on the lapels of his jacket and took a deep breath, looking around the train station. He wore small round spectacles on his nose and his dark hair was blading on top. He had a thick waxed moustache and didn't stand much taller than Eliza.

Eliza walked up to the man and extended her hand.

"Dr. Chaplin? I'm Elizabeth Fredericks. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Eliza introduced, indicating to Charlie, "This is my friend, Charles Barsad. He will be joining our team while we are in Egypt."

"Ah! Miss Fredericks," Dr. Chaplin said in his thick American accent as he took her hand in his, "It's great to finally put a face to a name. And what a pretty face it is! I'm sure you left many broken hearts back at Cambridge, yes? And you son," Dr. Chaplin said turning to Charlie, "Well…we can't all be blessed with devilishly good looks, can we?"

Dr. Chaplin chuckled to himself, giving Charlie a good humored pat on the shoulder. He turned and grabbed his suitcase that the steward had set on the train steps for him. Charlie looked at Eliza, giving her a sour scowl. She bit her cheek to keep from laughing at his expense.

"You mentioned you had someone traveling with you Dr. Chaplin?" Eliza asked, switching the subject.

"Please call me John, and yes, I can't believe I forgot to introduce you. How rude of me," Dr. Chaplin turned back to the train and called, "Spider!"

Charlie and Eliza exchanged glances.

"Spider? That's an odd name for an intern," Charlie muttered quietly enough so that Dr. Chaplin would not hear.

Spider was not an intern, much to Eliza's surprise and Charlie's dismay.

From the train bounded a small dog, just over a foot tall. Her short hair was all white, except for her pointed face, which started black at her muzzle and graduated to brown. She had various large patches of color all across her body. Dr. Chaplin would later inform Charlie and Eliza that Spider was a Smooth Fox Terrier, just over seven years old. Spider barked once and circled her owner happily.

"Come along Spider," Dr. Chaplin said and came to stand by Charlie and Eliza.

"Well, our train to Turin leaves at any moment. We best get cracking or else we'll miss it. Here son, make yourself useful why don't you?" Dr. Chaplin said and handed his suitcase over to Charlie. He hoisted Spider up in his arms and said, "Shall we?"

With that, Dr. Chaplin marched off in the direction of their next train, the terrier tucked under his arm.

Charlie turned to Eliza. "A _dog_. For the love of all that is holy the man brought a dog with him."

Eliza followed behind Dr. Chaplin. "What's wrong with dogs?"

"Would you like me to answer that question alphabetically or chronologically?"

"You're just vexed because animals don't take kindly to you."

"Yes, or the fact that I've known the man less than a minute and he's insulted me twice. And what kind of person names his dog Spider?"

"American's apparently," Eliza replied as the boarded the train.

"American's are bloody strange," Charlie muttered and boarded after Eliza. He put Dr. Chaplin's suitcase in the above compartment as the streamliner pulled away from the station. They had a long ride to Turin and so the odd company made themselves comfortable, Eliza sitting across from the American and Charlie next to her, across from Spider who had her own seat. Spider stared at Charlie until he made a face at her, to which she replied with a growl.

Charlie made a noise of disgust. "Bloody dog," he muttered.

Dr. Chaplin, who had pulled out a newspaper to pass the time, looked up from his reading.

"I'll have you know dogs are excellent judges of character. According to Spider, your character is less that amiable."

Eliza glanced at Charlie to see him clench his jaw, looking as though at any minute he would give Dr. Chaplin a piece of his mind, complete with a cynical remark and a handful of offensive curses. She sighed and reached into her bag, inconspicuously handing Charlie the small bottle of spirits.

He took it, glanced at Eliza with a mixture of awe and irritation, and then gulped the drink down.

He knew better than to question when someone offered him free alcohol.

With a sigh he leaned back into his seat and handed Eliza back the empty nip, now in a much better mood.

Charlie and Eliza had met during Eliza's first year at Cambridge. She had been interning on one of her uncles excavations to Jerusalem and Charlie had been hired on the team because of his extensive knowledge of ancient artifacts. Being the two youngest on the team, they were often stuck doing to dirty work and nothing brings two people closer together quite like hauling water and sifting dirt.

When they returned to Cambridge they remained friends until Charlie got himself into trouble. He began stealing artifacts from different excavations he was hired on and started selling them to dealers; his love for money having trumped his love for history. Once it was discovered that Charlie had been the thief behind the high profiled heists, he was expelled from Cambridge and tossed into prison for underground dealing.

What was really unfortunate was that Charlie was very good at his trade, no matter how dishonest it was. Once he was out of prison, he continued dealing artifacts right under the noses of the Archaeological Society until he felt that he had had enough and went into hiding, or rather "retirement" as Charlie called it. By that time, Eliza had lost touch with him until she found him a weeks ago in the bar.

Her uncle had been very angry when she informed him who her artifact specialists was.

_"Barsad? Barsad?" her uncle had asked when she had told him. It had been a few days before the train was leaving and Eliza had been packing when she spilled the news. At the time, Stephen was will warming up to the idea of her leading her own team. "Elizabeth, of all the talented men to take onto your team you bring on a raging alcoholic? Charles Barsad can't be trusted! He did time for stealing from other archeologists!"_

_Eliza twisted her red lips as she loaded her suitcase. "You think I don't know that?" she snapped, "You know as well as I do that Charlie is the best artifact specialists we've ever worked with. If anyone is going to help me find this burial site it's going to be him."_

_"Do you hear what I'm saying? He can't be trusted. It doesn't matter if he finds you the burial site or any of the rumored Gifts, he'll rob you blind and will be half way around the world before you even realized what happened." Stephen said._

_Eliza shook her head._

_"You are a foolish girl," Stephen said. "When your relics from the dig go missing, do not come crying to me."_

_With that, he left her dorm._

It took the next few days for Eliza to convince her uncle that she had made the right decision. He eventually accepted the idea, for Charlie really was the best in the business, though he expressed to Eliza on a regular basis that she needed to keep both eyes on Charlie. Even though they were friends, and he was a very skilled archaeologists, she had no reason to trust him. Eliza promised she would be careful, but she knew that she was doing right; Charlie was going to be an asset to the team.

Eliza turned to Dr. Chaplin, who had gone back to his reading.

"John, you said you were from New York. Ever been to Westchester? My mother and father moved there a few years ago from Ipswich."

Dr. Chaplin looked up from his newspaper.

"Oh, yes! Westchester is a very nice area. My wife's sister lives there and we visit her often. We live more inland though, in Kingston…"

And so Dr. Chaplin gave Charlie and Eliza an extensive background about his life, which Eliza didn't mind. It helped pass the time as the train chugged its way along to Turin.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> Sorry for the wait! My computer had to be swept and I moved so I've been very busy. I don't know when the next chapter will be here but hopefully it wont take as you for the reviews, as always. How are you guys enjoying the story? Do you agree with Eliza, should Charlie be trusted? How is the style and the description? Some critique will be greatly appreciated.


	4. Chapter Four

**Mediterranean Sea to Egypt**

**February 18th, 1936**

Eliza glanced at herself in the mirror.

The ship from Naples was due to dock in Benghazi any minute now and she was aching to get back on solid land again. They had been traveling just over a week and she was at her wits ends with rocking boats and hot trains; she was ready to get to Cario and get their excavation under way.

Since they were landing soon, she had decided to change into a more sensible outfit, figuring it wasn't practical to go trekking across the desert in a dress, nylons and a pair of oxfords. She had donned on a pair of khaki pants, some black boots and a white blouse instead.

She glanced over herself again and winced.

A women in men's clothes. Charlie would have a field day at the sight.

She leaned over the sink of the bathroom mirror and ran a tube of red lipstick across her lips. She didn't plan on completely losing all her femininity, even if she was going to be spending months in the middle of the desert with a bunch of dirty men.

With a satisfied sigh she left the bath room and made her way to the bow of the ship where she had left Charlie and Dr. Chaplin. Even though she felt oddly vulnerable in her new clothes, she still walked with a stride like she owned the world.

Spider was the first to spot her. The brown and white dog gave a little bark and Dr. Chaplin and Charlie turned to look at her. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes while they scrutinized her. Eliza raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, challenging them to say what they were thinking.

"Does this mean I'm going to have to wear a dress?" Charlie said passively.

Quiet it, you," Eliza warned and he frowned at her.

"I think you look absolutely lovely Miss Fredericks!" Dr. Chaplin cooed, "Only you could pull off those hideous slacks, my dear."

Spider barked, as if to agree.

"You're to kind John," Eliza murmured miserably.

She leaned over the railing of the boat, the last of her dignity shattered with Dr. Chaplin's subtle insult. She looked out over the Mediterranean Sea and could see the coast of Africa as the ship sailed over the water towards it.

"We best start packing," Eliza said, changing the subject and pushing herself up from the railing. "We're going to be docking soon."

A half hour later and Eliza, Charlie, Dr. Chaplin and Spider were making their way down a crowded wharf with their belongings in tow. Dr. Chaplin had tucked Spider in his knapsack so as not to lose her. Her head poked out of the top of the bag, watching the people on the wharf curiously. Eliza kept close to her companions as they were shuffled around the loading docks. Patrons buzzed back and forth between ships, trying to catch their next ride across the Mediterranean. Sailors stumbled over the dry land, trying keep upright on the firm ground after being a sea for so long. Hecklers just off the loading docks called to foreigners, trying to sell them over priced goods with empty promises and charming words. It was chaotic and stifling.

Through the crowd, Eliza's gaze rested on a middle aged gentlemen with dark hair. He was tall, close to Charlie's height, and built slim. He had exceptional facial hair and she guessed that he must have been a few years older than Charlie. His skin was dark and he had thick eyelashes that rested over high cheekbones. Recognizing him from the grainy pictures she had seen before, she approached him.

"Mr. Serrano?" Eliza said and the man turned to her.

"Miss Fredericks?" he asked and she detected a slight Spanish accent.

She nodded. "Yes," she introduced and shook Serrano's outstretched hand. "Mr. Serrano this is Charles Barsad, our artifact specialists and Dr. John Chaplin, one of the directors for the excavation."

Serrano took his turn shaking both of the men's hands.

"Mr. Hugo Serrano is going to be our translator for the excavation. He specializes in languages on excavation sights," Eliza explained. "Him and half the team have already been down to the main dig site to set up camp and mark the territory."

Charlie nodded. "Serrano? That's a Spaniard's name if I ever heard one." He stated.

"Yes sir, on my mother's side." Hugo Serrano replied, "Though I only lived in Spain for the first few years of my life. Most of my time has been spent in Cairo."

"How interesting," Dr. Chaplin said, moving closer to Serrano and circling him as though to inspect him. Dr. Chaplin barley went to Serrano's elbow. "How many languages do you speak?"

"Many," Serrano replied, keeping a passive face while Dr. Chaplin invaded his personal space. "English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Bengali, Portuguese, Russian and of course Arabic. There are others that I can understand, though I am not fluent in."

"Stimulating," Dr. Chaplin chuckled, seemingly enthralled by Serrano's many talents.

Serrano cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should be on our way," he said and indicated to two black cars parked on the side of the road. "There are no trains between here and Cairo and the roads are rough, so we have a long way to go."

Charlie and Serrano loaded the belongings into the car while Dr. Chaplin climbed into the second vehicle with Spider. Serrano took the driver's side of the first car.

Charlie stepped up next to Eliza.

"If you think for one minute that I am going to drive however many godforsaken hours with the American, you are completely mental," he said matter of factly.

"I'm driving with Serrano so he can debrief me on what's been going on down at the site. We're already a week into the dig and I need to be on the same page as the rest of the team."

Charlie hunched over and crossed his arms irritably.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath, "I'm going to be suicidal by the end of the drive."

Eliza resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Spare me melodramatic details," she replied, "Lucky for you I have one last nip of spirits."

She went to the car, opened the back door and dug through her things until she pulled out the small bottle and handed it to Charlie.

"It's the last one," she warned and climbed into the passenger side of the first car. "I'll see you in Cairo."

"If I don't throw myself from the car first," Charlie grumbled and walked over to the second car. He opened the door to the driver's seat and slid in.

Serrano fired up the vehicle and pulled away from the side of the road, Charlie and Dr. Chaplin following close behind. Traffic was slow moving through Benghazi but once the pedestrians, bikes, and horses cleared it was nothing but sandy desert for miles. As they rolled along towards Egypt, Eliza turned to Serrano.

"Have you been able to clear any of the site?" she asked.

"Other than for putting up tents, not much. We have only marked off the territory and established a grid. Most of the supplies are at the site, though we do have one more shipment coming to Cairo next week that will have some extra tools for us. After that we will get a weekly delivery of food, water and toiletries for the workers. Someone will have to go to Cairo every week to retrieve them and bring them back to the site," Serrano explained.

Eliza nodded. "We can put one of the natives in charge of that." she said and Serrano's nodded in agreement.

Serrano reached into the back seat and pulled out a leather bound notebook and handed it to Eliza. She flipped it open and went through the pages of field notes that Serrano had taken the week before. They were messy and there some important information missing but Elia couldn't complain. It was clear Serrano had been to enough excavation sights to know what he was doing. She just wished that she would have arrived to Cairo sooner to help get the excavation underway.

"I must warn you Mrs. Fredericks—"

"Eliza," she corrected as she pulled out the diagram of the grid that Serrano had marked up.

"Eliza. Some of the men are hesitant to begin the excavation," Serrano said slowly.

"And why is that?" she asked, glancing over the supplies list.

"There are different reasons," Serrano replied, "But most of the men are frightened. There are many rumors of curses circling the pharaoh Merenkahre and his sons and out here in the desert, superstition is more than just stories. The men fear for their lives and they fear that you are going to lead them down a path of destruction. They believe that they tomb should remain sealed."

Eliza closed the notebook slowly and sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, a dull aching feeling throbbing at her temples. This was precisely what she needed; one more problem to get in the way of her making a name for herself.

"What about the rest of them?" she asked, dropping her hand and turning to look at Serrano.

"Pardon?"

"You said most of the men were scared, what about the rest of them?"

"The rest of them men think that this excavation will fail. No one has been able to find any sort of detail about the tombs whereabouts and so they believe that we will waste months of digging and come up dry. They may not believe the site exists but they're happy so long as they are paid."

"And what do you think?" Eliza asked.

Serrano glanced at her and pursed his lips.

"I think…I think you are a brave woman for taking on a challenge as big as the tomb of Merenkahre and based on your schooling and lineage, I can assume you are a talented archeologists. You obviously have some faith that you will find the burial site and you seem to be a devoted historian but it takes more than that. I've been on excavations where men search for months and then crumble when their search ends up dry. Even the strongest man can only take so much disappointment before he goes mad."

Eliza knew exactly what Serrano was talking about; the same thing had happened to Robert. His search had grown desperate after months, which led to reckless decision making and eventually his death. The memory of her brother brought an uncertain pain to her chest and Eliza quickly banished the thoughts.

"So you think I'll crack under pressure and give up?" she asked.

"No I do not. I think you will succeed in your endeavors but there will be many hardships along the way. What I need is for you to prove me right and show me that you're not like the other men."

"Well I'm not," Eliza said and a devilish smirk crossed her lips. "I am a woman."

Serrano glanced at her.

"That is another thing."

"What?"

"The biggest issue that the men are facing is that they will be working under a women. None of them take kindly to the idea, no matter how much they are being paid."

Eliza huffed.

"You can't be serious. This is 1936, not the middle ages so you would think the sexism would stop," she said, irritation bubbling inside her. She took a breath to hold her composure. "I will just have to show them, won't I Hugo? I'll show them that I am one of the greatest archaeologists of this generation _and_ I'll do it while wearing white gloves and a dress."

Serrano looked at Eliza again and smiled. "Very good then," he said.

The rest of the ride to Cairo was silent. It took a few hours but they managed to reach Egypt by noon. Anticipation built in Eliza's chest like a bird in a cage, desperate to break free. She was so close to starting her excavation she could taste the victory on her tongue.

Yes, she would show them

She would show them all what she could do.

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><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> Thank you guys for the support! I'm really trying to post more often. Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter. How do you like the new character? I promise Ahkmenrah will make an appearance shortly!


	5. Chapter Five

**The Excavation Site**

**March 23rd 1936**

The edge of the Sahara Desert isn't any less stifling or scorching than the middle, and the diggers on the Fredericks excavation could attest to it. Though the Giza pyramids were just on the horizon, and past that a livable city, it still felt like the burning sun was slowing melting the sink from their skeletons. They were stone's throw away from civilization and yet for all they cared, they were stuck smack dab in the middle of the Sahara.

As the diggers leaned over the packed sand, digging or sifting through the earth, the backs of their necks started to burn and they collected what felt like rivers of sweat that ran down their foreheads and spines. The only thing worse than a still desert at high noon, was when a hot wind blew across the dunes, taking granules of sand and depositing them _everywhere_.

The diggers often found themselves bathed in a thin layer of dust, sand and sweat. The sand would hide in the fold of their clothing and mat itself in their hair. They had become accustom to eating dates with bits of sand stuck to the fruit and weren't surprised to find their water tainted by the dust. The wind was hot and made it difficult to breath. The workers had started tying bandannas around their noses and mouth to help keep their lungs clear.

It was enough to make some of the men contemplate burying themselves alive just to escape the endless heat and wind.

Despite the fiery dessert, they had made excellent progress for only being out a month. The team had uncovered a vast amount of their grid and created a sort of tunnel system. Hallways of earth wove across their site, leading from one hot spot to another. Tents were established in the northern most part of the site, where most of the team stayed and the food supplies were kept.

The excavation was thriving under the direction of Eliza and yet with everything going so well, she still felt like they were missing a piece to the puzzle. Like at any moment, something was bound to go awry.

She stood on top of one of the sand dunes, where she could see all of the excavation site. Sweat collected on her forehead, sticking her blonde hair to her skin, and her boots were full of sand but they were minor annoyances compared to the item in her hand.

Clenched in her fist was a letter from her uncle. The second one she had received since arriving in Egypt.

Hands fisted on her hips, she gazed down at the excavation and watched her workers. Below her, men moved from one area to the next, carrying bags of sand with them and shifting through the earth; carefully searching for any hint that they were close to the tomb. At the far end of the site, small explosions and clouds of sand rose from the ground every few minutes. Eliza could make out Charlie's figure, giving orders as he cleared ground for digging. Serrano meandered about, translating and keeping the men in line. She watched as he oversaw some men unloading the supplies from the camels that had just arrived from Cairo. At the bottom of the sand dune that Eliza stood on, Dr. Chaplin was clumsily making his way towards her. She looked down at him and watched as the stout man tried to get his footing in the sand.

But for every step he managed to take, the sand shifted and he slid back down.

Spider hopped her way to where Eliza stood, moving nimbly up the dune with her short legs. She barked and placed her front paws on Eliza's leg, her short stump of a tail wagging happily.

Reaching down, Eliza scooped Spider up in her arms just as Dr. Chaplin reached her, panting and covered in sweat.

"Miss Fredericks what are you doing up here?" he breathed, once he caught his breath.

"Thinking," Eliza replied.

"About?" Dr. Chaplin asked.

Eliza didn't look at Dr. Chaplin as she chewed her bottom lip. "Something isn't right."

Dr. Chaplin let out a short laugh that frighteningly resembled one of Spider's barks. "Don't tell me the native's stories are getting to you?"

Eliza shot him a harsh look. "Never," she answered, "I can't quite put my finger on it but I feel like things are going so well that something bad is just bound to happen. I know we haven't found anything yet but we've only been out a month so I never expected to. It's just something nagging in the back of my brain. Everything should have gone wrong with this excavation and yet it's doing so well. Our good fortune can't last forever."

Dr. Chaplin removed the spectacles from his face and whipped them on his dirty shirt. When he replaced them on his face, they were just as smudged with dust as they had been before but he sighed contently and said, "There, that's better."

Eliza shook her head. She thought that by now she would have been used to Dr. Chaplin's strange behavior but the assistant director continued to surprise her.

"If you ask me Miss Fredericks, I believe you are just being paranoid," Dr. Chaplin said, "You have nothing to worry about. Just because we haven't faced any major dilemmas since being in Egypt, doesn't mean they are hiding in the sand waiting for us to slip up."

Eliza sighed and rubbed the top of Spider's head. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am!" Dr. Chaplin chirped and took Spider from Eliza's arms. "Now if you'll follow me Miss Fredericks, I was hoping I could get your advice on some of these spots we plan on uncovering in the next week."

Eliza watched as Dr. Chaplin marched, or rather stumbled, down the sand dune. She looked down at the letter clenched in her fist and carefully unraveled it.

_Dearest Eliza,_

_It's good to know you are safely settled in Egypt. From you letter it seems that everything is going according to plan, and I'm glad for you, really I am, but don't let it go to your head like your brother._

_I wrote your parents and told them what you were up to. I know you haven't spoken to them for a while but it's no excuse. You should include them in your life, even if they disapprove of the career you chose. They should know that their only daughter is attempting one of the greatest excavations Cambridge has seen._

_I encourage you to review some of Robert's old field notes. It will help to know where he was digging and anything he may have uncovered will aid you in your excavation. He wrote me weeks before his death and informed me that he was close, though he never elaborated what "close" meant. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a terrible idea to retrace some of his steps._

_I can't help but feel jealous of you Eliza. If I was as young as you, and as foolhardy, I would have jumped at an opportunity like this. You have embarked on an experience that many archaeologists could not even dream of. Be grateful and use your time wisely, your funding will only last until the end of the year._

_Cambridge is not the same without you. The halls are much quieter and the classrooms are refreshingly devoid of a particularly snarky student who thinks she knows better than her professors. Teaching is going well; my freshmen are learning about human sacrifices and cannibalism among the Aztecs and you know how much I love teaching about that._

_Remember your schooling, it will help. Robert would be proud._

_Yours,_

_Uncle Stephen_

Eliza knew her uncle was still warming up to the idea of her leading an excavation on her own. It hadn't been an easy decision to give her her funding back and she knew it. He was being supportive in the best way he knew how and Eliza recognized that but she still felt like Stephen was treating her like a child in a sandbox rather than a professional archaeologists.

She glanced at the letter again. Going behind her back and writing to her parents, calling her snarky and foolhardy, telling her to retrace Robert's own expedition; it all made it sound like he didn't had complete faith in her abilities. Stephen had never been one for sentiment, but some encouragement from him would have been nice.

It couldn't have all been because Robert's excavation lead to his death, though she knew that played a major part. Eliza knew that Stephen harbored deep resentments and dark secrets about Robert's death; he had never been one too openly talk about her brothers passing, but there had to be other reasons Stephen wasn't putting his complete trust in her.

Eliza reread the letter. Perhaps her uncle really was jealous of her. His last excavation to Nepal had only lasted four months, and that was over a year ago. He hadn't been invited to go out on the field since and he wasn't getting any younger. Perhaps his time was up, and hers was just beginning, and he resented her for it.

Eliza shook her head and tucked the letter into the back pocket of her khakis. Her uncle wasn't that kind of a man. He was stern, sure, and at times harsh, but he was also intelligent and her closest blood. She knew him better than that and she knew better than to think like that. The dessert was getting to her head and making her paranoid, just as Dr. Chaplin had said.

"Come now Miss Fredericks! We don't have all day!" the assistant director called from the bottom of the dune.

Eliza resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she stumbled down the dune and followed Dr. Chaplin. Now was not the time to obsess over her uncles words, she had a job to do.

Eliza followed Dr. Chaplin as he led the way to the southern end of the site. Spider trotted along at her heels, barking occasionally. Even though the dog had been a nuisance at first Eliza was growing accustomed to her constant presence at the excavation site.

Dr. Chaplin stopped and pointed. "You have us scheduled to start digging here next week," he said, "but I've been looking over some of the research and I was thinking that perhaps it would be more beneficial to start screening about a hundred yards that way and let Charlie and his team clear the debris before we—"

Dr. Chaplin's speech was cut short when a commotion erupted behind the pair. Eliza turned and saw one of workers from Cairo lift something into the air, talking rapidly in Arabic.

"Sorry John, we'll have to talk later," Eliza said and, trying not to get excited, she headed in the direction of the group of diggers that had formed around the man. She passed by Charlie, who was ordering his team to clear before another blast, and whistled at him. He glanced up at her and clambered out of the large crater his team had been clearing.

Coming to walk next to her, he tugged the bandanna away from his mouth to speak.

"You know, I'm not a dog," he said stiffly, indicating to where the workers had gathered. "What's going on?"

Eliza didn't reply as she moved towards Serrano, who had taken the piece the worker had found and was inspecting it carefully. When he saw Charlie and Eliza he handed the item over and turned to the diggers, talking in Arabic and ordering them to settle.

Charlie took the piece, which mostly resembled a lump of red clay, and removed some of the dirt. Underneath was a rectangular piece of red stone, no bigger than his thumb. Charlie's brow pinched together as he turned over the stone in his hand.

"Well?" Eliza asked impatiently. They had found a two other items since coming to Egypt but both had been duds after Charlie looked them over and declared they were only a few hundred years old. Eliza was impatient to know if this piece was another false alarm and she had a sneaking suspicion that Charlie was enjoying himself making them wait in anticipation.

Charlie grasped the stone in his hand and shook his head, "I think it's a Djed pillar, which was used as a symbol for cleansing the body, but I can't be sure. It's definitely some sort of amulet or charm made from carnelian."

"And the date?" Serrano asked over Eliza's shoulder.

Charlie grinned. "Easily over four thousand years. We're getting close."

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> I am so grateful for your continued support guys. School and life in general has been very hectic, and will continue to be until the middle of March, at which time I will hopefully be able to post on a more weekly basis. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you are enjoying this fic, and if you are please leave a review!


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